


The Diary of Lady Macbeth

by Shabby Abby (KJPearl)



Series: Shakespearean Ladies [2]
Category: Macbeth - Shakespeare
Genre: Diary/Journal, Female-Centric, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Missing Scene, Purple Prose, Shakespearean Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 02:12:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6733792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KJPearl/pseuds/Shabby%20Abby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i> I wake each night from hideous terrors. I drown in the blood </i><br/>How Lady Macbeth lost everything in her quest for power.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Diary of Lady Macbeth

**Act 1, Scene 5**

Today I received a letter of a most peculiar nature. My husband had been out on the heath after victorious battle with the rebel forces when he happened upon the servants of Hecate, the weїrd sisters. They blessed him thrice with title and cursed him moreover with riddles. He has Glamis by birth and courage. He has been promised Cawdor by decree of both the sisters and the King. But I fear my lord’s tender heart. The title of King is not so easily won, what the sisters decree will come to pass only in time or in blood. Time we lack. All of court has heard the rumours, heard that Duncan plans to leave the throne to his own son Malcolm. My husband would let this be so. He would hope for the throne like a child, a foolish dreamer, and act surprised when the opportunity was lost. No, this cannot come to pass. Prophecy is prophecy and it must be truth, no one more worthy for the throne than we. King Macbeth. Queen Macbeth. Imagine the honor, the respect I would gain. If you cannot trust the man trust his wife, she will get the job done truly. So I must plan. Plot the method by which the King will die. So we may rise, as phoenixes from ashes. Take the throne we deserve. But careful, we must not be connected to the treason. Tonight Duncan will come, and with him all of court. We must frame the guards, men easily hired. Men loose with both words and loyalty. They could be hired by any lord. Even Malcolm may plot against his father if he doubts the crown is his. But the death blow to the King must be Macbeth’s, the man must prove his strength. Not only to me but to the weїrd sisters and even himself. He must prove himself worthy of the prophecy.

**Act 1, Scene 7**

It is done. The King is dead.

Macbeth will rise. Long live the King.

**Act 3, Scene 4**

I fear my plot does fall to pieces. My lord acts strange, possessed, mad. At our feast he left to consort with peasants and returned with his mood fearfully changed. He flinched at shadows, an empty chair. His seat was reserved but he stared at it as though there were a person already there. Not any person, though, no indeed. One he feared. A fear most wild, the fear reserved for the devil himself. Then he spoke of missing Banquo, and of bloodied hair and death. Missing, not dead, I assured myself. Now I am not so sure. Has my husband started in some mad crusade? To kill every lord, all the while plagued by visions. Has one murder opened a monster within him? A thirst for more blood? I know not. But if he is so far gone as to murder Banquo, his brother in all but blood I fear for everyone, both myself and all the kingdom.

**Act 5, Scene 1**

The plague of madness which befell my lord must be contagious. I wake each night from hideous terrors. I drown in the blood. Not blood I spilled. No, I have done no wrong. I beg the Lord to see, I am innocent. I did not kill them, any of them. Macbeth is his own man. He makes his own decisions, let the death fall on his record. But why mine? Why do I count the dead in my sleep? Duncan, the elderly, a grandfatherly man. Banquo, the young lord, a brother. Lady Macduff and her children. He killed the lady and her children! Does he not see, that it is me? He has signed my death with no care. If Macduff returns, as he swore, he will seek vengeance. Revenge is equal. For the loss of his wife a man will take his enemy’s. My life! For what? The woman knew nothing of her husband’s plans. And look how our similarities expand. I thought I knew my husband. I could predict his every move. Now the madness has taken him and  _I_  know nothing of  _my_  husband’s plans. I am lost. I am dying. I can feel death’s clutches in me. My haunted sleep leaves me no rest. Not when I can feel their deaths. I know not how much longer I can go on.

 

 


End file.
